


Stress

by XskyelineX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Coping, Love, Pain, Romance, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 19:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XskyelineX/pseuds/XskyelineX
Summary: We each have a way of coping





	Stress

Stress.

Stress is what drives the children of the Weasley-Potter Clan.

 

From birth, they are treated like novelties of the media, the outside world peering in to their daily lives, incessantly holding them on a pedestal. They’re trophies of the new generation, only human but treated as something more. 

 

The eldest Victorie, she sews. Her dresses are the most beautiful to be seen, but in a way, the most tragic. With every stich full of emotion, she creates a scene of her ow, using soft fabric; silk, velvet and lace, along will hundreds of others to create stories, memories, drawing an elegant picture with thread. Our parents tell her she could make a fortune selling them, and she burns every single dress.

 

Molly Weasley, she runs. She moves like the wind on a cold winters’ day. Through snow and rain, through scorching heat and blistering winds. She runs without a pause, until her lungs heave and her body is drenched. Muscles burning and throat aching, she runs from the nightmares. Molly could be an Olympic athlete. Running until she can no longer move, and upon recovery, she pulls herself up and runs some more.

 

Dominque medicates. Burning liquors, happy little pills and clouds of smoke. She escapes to her own little world, using her high to float above the drowning soberness that haunts her every day, grasping short breaths and moments of silence. The third child of the clan pretends she’s someone else, seeing the world through another’s eyes.

 

Lucy sings, as loud as possible, bold notes flooding the air for as long as she can hold her breath. Her harmonic notes filling the room, she performed once. It was in the newspapers, on billboards and replayed non-stop, she became a spectacle. Now Lucy sings for no one but herself, her voice faltering at the slightest hint that someone may hear.

 

Fred sleeps around, never bedding the same person twice, male or female, young or old, muggle or magical. His one rule is no attachments, no feelings and definitely no relationships. He sells himself to pay for extravagant needs, finding a numbing enjoyment in his work, every lock his lips find, every stroke and touch become a mundane task that fuels a longing for real feeling.

 

James hides, he disappears all together. For days on end, he’s unreachable- gone from the face of the earth. Bali, Portugal, Moscow, Melbourne, Madagascar, and so many more. He catches more flights than he answers calls, riding on family money to take him to places some could only dream of, returning only for a fraction of a second, just enough to promise his parents that he’s alive.

 

Louis gambles, pockets never empty, but he loses as much as he wins. Lush casinos, back alley poker games in a dingy basement. Grasping high stakes and high risk, he takes any opportunity to feel the rush of a win, or the sorrow of a loss, an opportunity to feel something. It isn’t just money he gambles with, taking risks on life and love, spending his days buzzed on liquor infused coffee.

 

A culinary master is found in Albus. He doesn’t believe in himself, but the dishes he creates are divine, learning from Grandma Molly and spending days in the kitchen, whipping up countless treats and culinary masterpieces and absolute perfection on a plate, delivering his products to those in need. But despite his love of food, he’s never tasted it. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his fame, he’s frail and shaky- unable to stomach anything but the odd slice of toast, Albus doesn’t think himself worthy of his own creations.

 

Lily paints. Her face, on canvas, street walls and pavements. She never stops, enduring tirelessly, her art fuelled by stale cigarettes and energy drinks. Running from the law to spread her message like wildfire. She refuses to be silenced, using her paints to scrawl her protests across walls and windows, airing her thoughts. She can’t always escape the cold clutches of the law, charged with 13 counts of vandalism since the age of thirteen, Lily can’t stop fighting for what she wants.

 

Hugo writes; Songs, poems, stories. His words flow softly, creating beautiful recollections of the past, predictions of the future. His words are riddled with pain, sewing tragic fictions. His words present a longing for something more. Hugo never publishes his work. It’s kept quiet, few being whispered his tales, clinging to the edge of their seats, wanting more.

 

Teddy drinks. Lorcan fights. Lysander sets off on epic quests to hunt for mythical beasts.

 

But you and me? We have each other, the snake and the rose. We don’t have an artificial release, we have each other, and in a way, that’s just as damaging. The tabloids rage with stories of us, our parents baring teeth at the notion that we may be corrupting each other. But like the others, we deal with the pain. In the darkest moments, you’re always there to numb the hurt. Every second, every hour, every day with you is how I cope with the stress, a miracle and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

As time passes, the attention shifts from us, and we heal. Things change.

 

Victorie opened a dress shop, quickly becoming one of the most renowned designers in the fashion industry, both in the magical world and the muggle one.

 

Molly become a famous athlete, winning gold for England three times over, knowing when to take a break.

 

Dominque has successfully rehabilitated, four years clean, and now counselling in one of the worst muggle schools in the country, helping troubled kids to break bad habits and turn their pain into productivity.

 

Lucy now plays gigs in small bars across the country, singing songs written by Hugo, hoping to be scouted by a record label.

 

Fred found love, in the form of a rough beauty named Emma, entirely by accident.

 

James still disappears, but now he answers calls and takes company, reassuring his parents he’ll be home for Sunday dinner.

 

Louis ironically, now assists people in managing money and has built a successful career out of helping people.

 

Albus finally opened his own restaurant, and tried one of his own dishes, now well-built and healthy, he aims to help others in their struggle.

 

Lily now does gallery shows, her paintings still protesting right from wrong but now, in a way she is heard.

 

Hugo still writes, songs for Lucy, as well as dozens of bestselling novels, his words no longer so painful but still full of meaning.

 

Teddy is now sober, and wed to Victorie, with a child on the way.

 

Lorcan went into law enforcement.

 

Lysander discovered the crumple-horned snorkack.

 

And me? I’m wearing one of Victorie’s beautiful creations, lace caressing my skin. Lily has painted my face to shine as beautiful as her smile. Lucy and Hugo are singing a beautiful love ballad they wrote for us. Albus created the most beautiful cakes I’ve ever laid eyes on, just for us. James is standing next to you, as your best man. And I’m walking the aisle, lead by my father, about to marry you.


End file.
